The Good That Won't Come
by Witharmsoutstretched
Summary: She was exactly how he didn't remember her and he was exactly how she remembered him. They knew each other like the back of their hands. She strays from the path, will he be able to bring her back on track? The complex tale of two youths. Sorato.


_A/N_: Disclaimer: I do not own **Digimon** nor the song _Passenger Seat_ by Death Cab For Cutie nor the title of this fanfiction, which is based off of one of Rilo Kiley's magnificent songs. I wish I did. :( But alas, I don't. Please enjoy the story. I basically wrote this in the spur of the moment; I had gotten inspired all of a sudden. Also, I haven't written a story in the _longest _time, so please excuse any silliness. Oh, and I don't know if I'll continue. Possibly. But I digress, on with the story.

**Warning: **There is a small use of profanity by the characters.

_**The Good That Won't Come**_

**_-I roll the window down and then begin to breathe in; the darkest country road  
and the strong scent of evergreen; from the passenger seat as you were driving me home._**-

Slender digits gripped the steering wheel and stormy azure orbs gazed directly onto the dark road in front of him. The window was rolled down all the way and his arm was placed on top of the door. Messy strands of golden hair fluttered and thrashed in the cool night air as he drove quickly down the deserted highway. His ashy blonde brows were furrowed in concentration and lips set into a thin line. He looked aggravated; disturbed. A throaty sigh escaped his lips.

His gaze shifted from the road for a second to the pale and slender figure sitting on the seat next to him. Their head was leaned lightly against the window and petal pink eyelids rested over extraordinary eyes. Wild, wavy red locks tumbled down petit shoulders and choppy bangs rested against a moist forehead. Pretty clothes that accentuated their soft body were now rumpled and in a disarray from the hectic night. Lips were slightly parted and their chest rose calmly with each intake of breath; a sign that they were asleep, or rather unconscious.

To say he had been furious, was an understatement. He had been livid; hot blood pumping through his veins, fists clenching, and eyes darkening in fury. He thought everything had been going fine; that they were getting better. Apparently he had been dead wrong. He remembered shaking with anger as he recognized the slurred voice on the other side.

"_Come get me?" They asked, or rather commanded. _

"_Wha- Who is this?" He remembered asking in confusion. He had been in the middle of writing a song for The Wolves when the shrieking phone had interrupted him._

"_Pl-please?" They pleaded in desperation. Their voice sounded slurred, each word slow. It was obvious they were drunk. _

_Yamato Ishida paused for a second; thoughts traveling a million miles per second. _

"_Yama?" They croak_ed _gently. _

_He blinked. "Sora? Again?" Two simple words. _

"_Yeah." _

_He gulped as he shook. Again? He questioned himself once more. She had promised all of them she wouldn't; she had promised **him** that she wouldn't. Never again. Empty words from Sora Takenouchi. He never thought he'd see the day._

"_Where?" His voice sounded stone cold._

"_Micah's place." _

"_That fuc-" He was interrupted by a sudden click of the phone and soon a dial tone. She apparently didn't want to talk to him any further. Didn't want to, or rather refused to, listen to the words he had repeated countless times. A stream of curses stumbled past his lips as he dashed towards the front door, grabbed his keys, and slipped on his shoes and a coat. He locked the door and hurried down his apartment's stairs. A few seconds later, he was in the driver's seat of his car, making his way to an all too familiar address. _

It was one of those times where every step you took, every look you made, every single breath you took, was embedded perfectly into your memory.

He had remembered storming into the house. _It was loud; the music blasting at a painful level. The place was crowded. People dancing everywhere; hooking up in every corner; passed out in every other corner. His eyes swept throughout the house, looking for the slender red head. His stormy orbs blazed in fury as he spotted her; and the current position she was in. She was up against the kitchen counter, eyes closed, and a dazed expression lay on her face. A tall boy was up against her, his lips fused to her neck, and hands at her hips. Yamato's expression shifted into a disgusted one. He couldn't believe that in the minutes, **minutes**, since she had called him, she had gotten herself into this position. It wasn't entirely her fault, seeing as she was half conscious. Then again, she was the one to have gotten herself half conscious in the first place. But that was besides the point. _

_He hurriedly approached the couple with aglacial expression on his face. His hands slid up against the boy's body and he harshly pushed him away. The other boy glazed up angrily. Pissed that someone had ruined his fun. _

"_What the fuck!" He spat dangerously. _

_Yamato remained silent and merely picked up Sora from the kitchen counter. Her head lolled slightly to the side and her eyes remained shut. Her face was flushed and her disheveled state worried him. He suddenly felt someone shove him, and he almost tumbled over. He glared up at the vain of his existence vehemently. _

"_I **told** you to stay the fuck away from her." Was all he whispered harshly. _

_The brunette raised a brow and smirked. "I heard you." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned casually back against the kitchen sink. "But she came to me." A cruel chuckle escaped his mouth. _

_What he would give to punch his lights out and send him to hell; right where he belonged. But the girl in his arms was who he needed to tend to right that instant. So he turned around and began walking away when he felt someone violently grab his shoulder. _

"_Where are you taking her? She wanted to stay. She was having... **fun**. Don't be such a stiff, Blondie." The brunettes voice was taunting and sharp. _

"_She obviously wanted to leave, seeing as she called **me.** She probably wanted to get away from your ugly face." _

_The boy's smug look dissolved and an irritated one took its place. _

_Yamato smirked and began walking away. As he reached the front door he turned around to face the guy who was across the room from him now, glaring daggers into his back. _

"_And like I said, **leave her alone.**" _

_The blue-eyed boy's smug expression resurfaced. _"_Maybe." __He murmured. _

_Yamato ignored him this final time, and continued walking out; walking out of Sora Takenouchi's newest and worst, bad habit. _

_**-Then looking upwards I strain my eyes and try to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites. From the passenger seat as you were driving me home.-**_

So this was how Yamato Ishida had ended up with a drunk and passed out Sora Takenouchi sitting in his passenger seat at one in the morning. Never in a millions years would he have ever imagined being in this position. Maybe with Taichi, yeah. Most likely. But Sora Takenouchi, **never**.

_It had been only a few months ago that he and his best friends, including Sora, had gone on a road trip down this same highway, in celebration of the final summer before their senior year. She had sat in the same seat she had been now, but she was conscious then, and happy. Yeah, happy. _

_Mimi and Taichi were in the back seat, already asleep and snoring the night away. Sora was gazing out the window, eyes twinkling with that special something and wide awake. Probably due to the twenty-five cups of copy she drank. Okay maybe not twenty-five, but close enough.. She was addicted to the bitter fluid. Her window was rolled down, and she was gazing at the bright stars up above in curiosity, a bag of gummy bears in her lap. She had been obsessed with those too. Coffee and gummy bears. Strange girl. He loved that about her. _

_She turned to look at Yamato and she had smiled softly. "Yama?" She murmured. There was no drunk slur; not like now._

"_Yes my dear?" He looked at her for a quick moment and grinned boyishly. _

"_Want some?" She asked as she shoved the bag of gummy bears under his nose. _

_He laughed and took a couple from the bag. He popped a few in his mouth. However, he knew better. He knew Sora hadn't cut through the silence to simply ask if he wanted gummy bears. He **knew** her. _

"_So Sora, tell me your life story." He turned to flash her a smile. That had been there way of asking to spill what was really on their minds, for the longest time._

_And she did. She had told him every little detail she could while they drove down the empty road. She had told him her darkest secrets, what made her cry, happy, worry, nervous. Her life, her dreams, her goals. Every detail. They had talked about the stars, family, red and green apples and which were better, about broken bones, and skidded knees. About how with one minute you could do one thing, one thing that nobody else would ever do in the history of the planet. **Everything. **_

_They had laughed, stayed silent, contemplated. Sora had shed tears, and Yamato, almost. They spoke 'till the break of down; until Mimi and Taichi woke up, looked at them oddly, and traded spots. Dark circles lay under their eyes, and sleep called to them, but they didn't care. And when they went to the back seat, they had fallen asleep. Yamato's arm around her, and her head on his shoulder._

_It was ironic how in a few hours their entire relationship; the dynamic between the two had changed. It was cheesy as hell, but oh so painfully true. _

**_-"Do they collide?" I ask and you smile, with my feet on the dash the world doesn't matter._**-

Yamato would never forget that night. And he knew, she wouldn't either.

He reached his apartment finally and parked. He glanced at the broken girl next to him and looked away. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel and sighed tiredly. Everything was so messed up now; ever since the incident. He stepped out and went to the other side to get her. He slid the door opened and bent down. He shook her lightly a few times until she finally opened her fiery eyes. Her eyes that no longer sparkled; her eyes that were now lifeless; a dwindling flame.

"What? Yamato?" She breathed. He flinched. Her breath was stale and he could smell the alcohol.

"Yeah. You're at my house. You're okay."

She nodded numbly, barely understanding whatever he was saying. "Yeah, okay." She murmured before lolling back to sleep.

Yamato picked up her light body and with his foot, shut his car door. He decided to take the elevator this time to his apartment. When he got to the front of his house, he carefully balanced Sora and slid the key into the lock. He finally entered his humble home and slid off his shoes. He made his way easily to his room and gently set her down on his bed. This felt so routine now. It felt automatic.

He slipped off her shoes and placed them at the edge of his bed. He tucked her in and then kissed her temple gently. "God, Sora.." Was all he could murmur.

He grabbed a pillow and a few blankets before quietly leaving his room. He entered the living room and plopped down onto his couch. He turned on the TV, just for the sake of it's noise swallowing out the dreaded silence. He stared blankly at the screen before falling into a troubled sleep himself.

And tomorrow would be a new day. And hopefully a _different _day. Yes, different would be good.

**_-When you feel embarrassed then I'll be your pride. When you need directions then I'll be the guide. For all time. For all time.-_**

_A/N_: Love it? Hate it? Indifferent about it? Indulge me with your thoughts! Hope you enjoyed. :) And constructive criticism is always welcomed. Thank you!


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